


peel it back and bite me

by Cerberusia



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mindfuck, Multiple Personalities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-22
Updated: 2011-07-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Halle/Alle) In the shower: <i>Close your eyes, says Hallelujah, licking a stripe up his neck.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	peel it back and bite me

Allelujah always times his showers so he can take them alone. He's not body-shy - his time in the Institute has left him largely without such modesty - but showers are Hallelujah's favourite time to pester him. At the end of a long day, when Allelujah is just getting ready to sleep, Hallelujah, having been cooped up all day, is bored and itching for some 'fun'. And Hallelujah's idea of fun tends to involve things which upset Allelujah.

So today, since as usual he doesn't want to appear completely crazy by talking to himself when other people are around, he ensures that no-one is around or likely to be around for the next twenty minutes (he only takes ten at most, but just in case) before stepping under the spray of water. The shower room is one of the few places on the ship with artificial gravity, simply because it's difficult to have one without it. Allelujah grew up first in a colony with artificial gravity, then on Earth, but he's been in space long enough that zero-G actually feels more natural.

 _That's because we were made for this._ Wonderful. Just what he needs. He focusses on scrubbing the shampoo into his hair. Clearly this is going to be an ultra-quick shower.

 _What, you don't wanna chat?_ Hallelujah sounds amused. Allelujah is not. The last thing he wants is Hallelujah lecturing him about how they were made as weapons, and Allelujah should just suck it up and learn to enjoy the satisfaction of killing as he does. And if he can't do that, could he at least make things interesting for Hallelujah? Get laid, at least. It's just sad that at his age he's only ever got any action when Hallelujah's taken over the body (and Allelujah tries not to remember those incidents, his body under Hallelujah's control doing those things without his consent). Why not Sumeragi, bet she'd go for it - she's got a real soft spot for you, eh, Allelujah? Come on, even you can't deny she's got amazing tits...And this is the point where Allelujah does his best to tune him out, because as impressive as Sumeragi's breasts indubitably are (especially in zero gravity), he really doesn't want to listen to Hallelujah wax lyrical about them and tell him in precise detail what perverted use they could put them to. Especially since he likes to do that _while Sumeragi is actually in the room_. And that's just awkward.

But Hallelujah isn't complaining at him or teasing him at the moment. He's being very quiet. Worryingly quiet, in fact. Allelujah stills, trying to get a sense of what he's thinking, but whatever he's planning is well hidden. He won't have given up, though - he's just holding out for the right moment.

Hallelujah strikes when Allelujah moves to turn off the water pressure. His vision blurs for a moment, then there's a presence behind him. It's not real, he _knows_ it's not real, but Hallelujah can make him think it is. Hot breath washes over his neck as the phantom of Hallelujah presses him against the shower wall.

 _Close your eyes,_ says Hallelujah, licking a stripe up his neck. Allelujah shivers and braces himself with his arms. This is a terrible idea: they're in the shower room, for God's sake.

"Not here!" Allelujah snaps, trying to get free. He can't, of course.

 _But you wouldn't mind if we did this somewhere else?_ Hallelujah's mocking him, but then his voice turns serious: _Close your eyes, or I'll close them for you._

Meaning that he'd take over the body and probably wreak havoc. Reluctantly, Allelujah closes his eyes.

 _Good boy._ Hallelujah bites his ear, not too hard for once, and trails one hand down Allelujah's stomach, digging his nails in just enough. He knows exactly what Allelujah likes. He wraps his fingers around their cock (because Hallelujah rarely manifests his own, prefers to share for some reason) and Allelujah breathes out slow and shaky. He can feel Hallelujah's lust in the forefront of his mind, throbbing in time with his own, like a heartbeat. They're completely attuned to one another, which shouldn't be surprising by now, yet always is.

Hallelujah strokes him quickly, but only for a minute before Allelujah feels him slide to his knees behind him. Is he...? Hands grip his ass, and he feels hot, humid breath. He is. Allelujah rests his head against the wall and focusses on the sensation of a tongue touching his asshole. Hallelujah likes doing this, he suspects partly because he likes embarrassing Allelujah. Of all the filthy things Hallelujah can do to their body, for some reason this is the one he finds most perverse (and of course, Hallelujah can tell that he likes it anyway).

"Hallelujah!" he hisses, very aware of where they are. Hallelujah just pushes his tongue in, hot and slick, and Allelujah's cock jerks. Why can't he just get him off quickly and quietly, like he does himself? He makes such a fuss about it. Of course, he already knows the answer - humiliation.

 _Because this is more fun._ Hallelujah's hand moves around again to palm his cock. _Loosen up a little, Allelujah._ Allelujah squeezes his eyes tighter and tries to ignore the situation he's in. But a particularly tight squeeze to his cock brings him back - Hallelujah hates it when he spaces out to get away. He wonders, briefly, if it's his hand or a phantom that's stroking him - it feels like his, but then it would, wouldn't it?

The phantom tongue squirms thickly in his asshole, and he turns his head to press his mouth into his hand. It feels good, so good, but he won't give Hallelujah the satisfaction of hearing him moan.

 _That's okay,_ whispers Hallelujah in the back of his mind, _I don't need sound to hear you._ He sounds insufferably smug - but then, he usually does. At least it's preferable to 'pissed off and psychotic', which is what he tends to be the rest of the time. And that gets Hallelujah's other hand sinking nails into his thigh, just a touch too painful. A warning - _Shut up and enjoy it._ Allelujah wants to think of other things and pretend this isn't happening, but that'll just upset Hallelujah more. So, even though it's embarrassing, it's easier to try and get this over with as quickly as possible.

Which of course makes Hallelujah try to draw it out: he slows his hand on Allelujah's cock and keeps pressing his tongue into him. He shouldn't enjoy it so much - a tongue isn't long enough to stimulate the prostate - but he gets off on the idea of it, the filthy intimacy. He focusses on that and the sensation. The shower room is cold, but his skin flushes with heat. He can feel Hallelujah there with him, sharing the arousal and keeping up a steady stream of muttering, low and dirty. Allelujah isn't really paying attention to the content - though he sometimes catches words like _cock_ and _fuck_ , words which Hallelujah likes because they make Allelujah squirm - but rather the harsh, promising tone. Technically, he must be able to make his own voice do that, but he's never managed it - and anyway, it doesn't fit him like it fits Hallelujah. He opens his mouth and pants, unable to stay quiet.

And soon the world narrows down to Hallelujah's tongue in his ass and Hallelujah's hand on his cock and Hallelujah in his mind saying filthy things and desire bleeding through and _Hallelujah, Hallelu-_

They come as one, rush of pleasure-heat pulsing through them. Hallelujah's presence fades and Allelujah crumples against the wall. His eyes are a little wet. Hallelujah curls up inside his mind, sated and radiating contented smugness. Allelujah looks at the semen on the wall, knows that he has to clean it up, and feels very tired.

Hallelujah always gets what he wants.


End file.
